


For What It's Worth

by flybynight



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 22:10:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7124344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flybynight/pseuds/flybynight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is trying to help Alfred study. Trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For What It's Worth

**Author's Note:**

> pairing: usuk  
> rating: M  
> warnings: too cheesy for words and abuse of Shakespeare. I'm very sorry.   
> a/n: Not really much to add here, I just wanted to write something silly (as per usual) and this was the result! I'm ashamed of it, but at least I can say I did something recently. xD

" _God_ , I hate this."

"Honestly Alfred, you act like I'm torturing you."

"What else would you call this?!"

Arthur sighed and tossed his pencil down, a little more neatly than Alfred had several moments prior. He'd thrown it hard enough to bounce off the table and nearly hit Arthur right in the face. Thankfully he'd managed to avoid it, and though he would have liked an apology, he didn't get one. Alfred was being far too difficult to notice what he'd done in the first place. Such was the risk he had to take in order to help his boyfriend study for exams.

Nobody liked exams, and it made sense. After all, who could like a week long event of sleep deprivation? Even Arthur, who prided himself on his grades and how well he did in all of his classes, despised them, but he knew there was really no way around it (despite Alfred's suggestion that they run away together and flee the country-- as if that were a _good_  solution).

"Honestly, we're never going to get through this material if you don't stop being a child about it," Arthur murmured after a moment, forcing himself not to grin at the American's worsening pout,"I do have my own notes to get through, you know."

Alfred huffed. "I know, I know..."

"From the top then, shall we?"

He started again with simple questions and answers for things that they'd already gone over earlier in the afternoon. The entire apartment was virtually silent, what with Alfred's roommates either holed up in the school library or hanging out somewhere else. Alfred was one of those rare freshmen who'd been offered the opportunity to live in one of the upperclassmen apartments, as there'd been too much overflow in the regular dormitories. Arthur, being a junior, was living off campus with some friends of his own. Normally they would have been at his place for something like this, simply for the privacy-- Arthur's roommates tended to never be home, so it was rather perfect for the two of them after they'd started dating.

Tonight however, Alfred had insisted they do it here, which Arthur didn't particularly mind. He had sincerely hoped that it would help keep them focused on the task at hand. A fruitless endeavor perhaps, considering who he was dealing with. His younger boyfriend had the attention span of a fruit fly when dealing with things he didn't care for, especially when already agitated. Arthur was only about halfway down the page of study questions when Alfred sighed noisily and Arthur reflexively put his fingers to his temple, anticipating an oncoming migraine.

"This is boring."

"No one ever said studying was meant to be _fun_ , Alfred."

"I like studying for my other classes! At least that stuff makes sense to me!"

Arthur rolled his eyes heavenward. Alfred was in engineering and a whole slew of mathematics courses that he was extremely capable in all on his own. Of course, still being a freshman meant he had credit requirements to take, basic English literature being one of them. That was why Arthur was stuck here, seeing as he was an actual English major, attempting to go over the finer points of 17th century playwrights, scholars, and poets to someone who seemed to openly detest anything that wasn't an equation or a formula.

It couldn't have been more cliche, really. Arthur never hung around people of Alfred's type, but it was just his luck that he'd fallen in love with the overgrown manchild, who was honestly very sweet the rest of the time. He didn't even make fun of Arthur for pursuing a career in literature, and was wholly supportive of his interests. It was just _right now_  he looked affronted about anything having to do with it.

The Brit had tried to make it interesting-- he really had. Even introducing a reward system in which he'd give Alfred a kiss for every question he got right. He had put a stop to that almost immediately after starting it however, as one could give Alfred an inch and he would inevitably take a mile, half-assing his answers just to get Arthur close enough to him to lock lips and then refusing to let him go.

He was sitting at a respectable distance across the table now, idly drumming his fingers across the tabletop in thought.

"Well. I believe we've covered this portion enough times. Let's move on..."

Arthur flipped through the copy of the study material, brows knitting at the title heading for the next section. Alfred's class had done a brief but intensive series on Shakespeare, which happened to be one of Arthur's favorite fields of study.

And, naturally, Alfred's _least_  favorite.

"Why don't you read through the key sections again and I'll ask you some questions about it after you've finished," Arthur suggested, picking up one of the textbooks scattered across the table and pushing it towards the other. Alfred obediently but begrudgingly took the book and flipped it open while Arthur picked up his own notes. This would hopefully buy him enough time to look through his own materials.

It was perhaps not long after they both started working silently that Arthur felt Alfred's stare on him. He ignored it easily enough at first, turning every page of his book with his usual careful preciseness. He wanted to make sure the other knew that he was very much _not_  paying him any attention, and would not give in to games.

That lasted only a little while, and Arthur finally gave up and raised his eyes towards him, expression utterly unimpressed from behind his reading glasses. Alfred grinned widely at him, the first one he'd seen since they'd started studying, and Arthur didn't really want to admit that it made him want to smile too, realizing how much he had missed seeing it. But he tucked that away and went back to looking down at the words in front of him.

Several more agonizing moments passed, during which Arthur realized he was reading the same handful of sentences over and over because Alfred kept distracting him with his glances and making him fidget slightly.

"Alfred, when you completely fail Intro to Lit this semester, I do hope you won't be blaming me for it," he muttered dryly.

"How can I fail, babe? I have you."

Arthur could hear the playfulness in his voice.

"You're not reading like I told you to do. I've done all I can do for you save for writing the damned answers on your hand, I'm starting to think you're a hopeless case."

"Well maybe I don't understand what I'm reading."

He raised an eyebrow at that, looking back at his boyfriend just to see if he was being serious. Alfred looked perfectly innocent, no longer grinning, but hopeful. And that was suspicious all by itself.

"What don't you understand," he started, folding his arms across his chest.

The American fiddled with his pencil absently, running a hand through his hair with an air of frustration-- a move that was unfairly attractive when he did it, but Arthur forced himself not to notice. "Mostly this part here. Old English is really hard to understand. I have no fucking clue what this means."

"All right. Let me see it."

"'kay. Hey, have I told you how cute you are when you wear your glasses?" 

_Only a thousand times earlier, when you were trying to get in my pants_ , Arthur thought petulantly.

"Shut up and move."

Alfred scooted back in his chair just as Arthur got up and moved to his side. He remained standing, but bent over a little to get a closer look. Knowing a lot about Shakespeare had its definite perks, and Arthur was sure that the questions wouldn't be that difficult considering the level of Alfred's course. They'd only read two plays that semester, one of which being _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ , one of Arthur's favorites. Not an uncommon favorite, but with good reason.

He hummed thoughtfully. "Well the questions are asking you to consider the interpretation of gender and its significance throughout the play. Also the matter of romance--"

Arthur stopped mid-sentence as he felt a hand creeping up the back of his thigh.

"Honestly, Alfred!" he bit out, and was about to turn around and give the idiot behind him a good smack for making him waste his time like this. However, he found it difficult to speak suddenly as Alfred drew closer, draping himself along his back and wrapping his arms around his waist. The older boy felt nothing but heat from head to toe, and blood rushed to his face.

Arthur fought for composure, looking as indignant as he possibly could. "What _exactly_  do you think you're doing?!"

"Studying," Alfred replied without hesitation, and said quite earnestly at that. Arthur had a feeling he knew what kind of 'studying' Alfred wanted to get up to just then, but he had to feign ignorance in the off chance that Alfred might take the hint and bugger off.

That chance was rendered useless when he felt that same hand fiddling with the front of his trousers.

"W-Wait a moment--!"

Without waiting, Alfred reached out to flip open the book to an earmarked page of the play.

"Can you tell me what this line means?" Alfred said, as if he were still sitting calmly in his seat and pretending to pay attention, "this line, right here."

The younger man reached forward to point where he was referring to, steady as his other hand pulled down the zipper of Arthur's pants and began to push them down and off, along with his underwear. As they pooled at his feet, leaving him only in his sweater, Arthur clenched his fists and tried to buck backwards to get free. This turned out to be a poor plan in the long run, as it only made Alfred fall heavier against him, and as the cloth of the other's jeans rubbed against his now bare ass, he realized with shame and utter dismay that he was already turned on.

Arthur sucked in a breath. "Alfred, please--"

"Do you want me to learn this stuff or not?" Alfred prodded, smiling above him as his hand palmed at his skin, fingers gliding over the flesh and kneading it with every word he spoke. "I don't wanna fail this semester, my parents will kill me, you know."

" _I'm_  going to kill you!" Arthur barked back, and then gave a quiet gasp as he suddenly felt something wet drip along the crack of his ass.

What the hell? Was Alfred just walking around carrying lube in his pockets? Had he _planned_  this?!

His suspicions were confirmed when he heard the quiet snap of a cap being put back on, and then those wicked, wayward fingers dragged down with clear intent, slick and a little cold. He tried to keep himself calm and his breathing even, up until he felt them circle his entrance and then push in, with embarrassingly little resistance. Alfred definitely noticed, giving a low whistle as his fingers were sucked in. Arthur blushed hotly and tried to hide his face in his arms, but Alfred's other hand came around to stroke his cheek affectionately and lift his face back up.

"I don't hear any reading going on, babe..."

"Y-You utter bastar-- _ahhn oh god_..."

Alfred laughed, voice sinfully low and raw the way it only seemed to be during moments like this. In turn, Arthur could only glower at nothing and turn his face to nip at Alfred's fingers. He even started to rock his hips backwards, which made him smirk at the sound of his boyfriend's breath hitching in his throat.

"Come on, Arthur... **Read it** ," Alfred finally commanded, and there really was no hope for him at that point.

Half choking on a moan, he gripped the edges of the book, his vision blurred as he shakily looked down at the page marked in blue pen and yellow highlighter. Distantly he wondered why Alfred was having so much trouble with it, it seemed fairly straightforward even for a fool like him. But he pressed on anyway.

"' _O-O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, d-divine'_..." Arthur hiccuped through the words before gasping, as Alfred's finger curled inside of him just so.

He couldn't believe he was doing this, but the fact that he could have said 'no' but didn't particularly want to, made it that much more difficult for him to turn back. How could he deny it, when his cock sat heavy and erect in Alfred's other palm now, each stroke matching every thrust of his fingers. He was rather hard pressed to say there wasn't a certain thrill to it all.

"' _To... to what, my love--_ " Arthur groaned, every word taking a gargantuan amount of effort to form on his tongue, ".. _.shall I compare thine eyne.._.?"

As Alfred kissed and sucked along his neck, Arthur distantly realized that not only had Alfred done all of this on purpose, but he had lied about not understanding old English. The way he swept his hands down Arthur's body so sweetly as he continued to read, of kisses and purity and all the beguiled ramblings of one bewitched, Alfred's touches were the same. It was proof enough. The scene in the play was one of patent ridiculousness, but somehow between the two of them it managed to be stupidly romantic. He knew every word like Arthur did, and it made him burn hotter with the desire to ravish and be ravished by the lying little _asshole_ all the more.

_Bollocks to this!  
_ __  
He tossed the book away from himself, not hearing where it landed. Presumably in the same place the rest of their books and papers ended up consequently after Arthur swept his arms out and wiped the table clear. There was a noise of surprise and amusement from Alfred, but he ignored it as he twisted his arm around to pull out his boyfriend's fingers. The other seemed confused up until Arthur turned around in his grasp, lay back against the table, and dragged Alfred right on top of him to kiss him senseless.

Alfred went willingly, of course, groaning and fumbling with his own trousers as Arthur began to claw at him. If they were going to fuck, then they were going to do it on Arthur's terms-- which meant no more wasted time. He was in complete control as he heard Alfred's jeans crumple to the floor, and he reached out to grab the other man's cock. Nothing was quite as sweet as seeing his lover bend and shudder just at his touch, and Arthur felt his pride slowly on the mend.

It didn't last long, however. He was much too shameless for that, as he spread his legs, guiding Alfred into him as clamping his hips down. The harsh press of the table against his back would have been unforgiving were it not for the sweet stretch and burn of the other filling him to the brim, already starting to thrust and half grimacing from his efforts, half smirking at his success. Arthur knew it was because he'd gotten what he'd wanted, and it was unacceptable that he should look so smug.

The table beneath him creaked violently as their frantic rutting increased. He couldn't say he felt bad about the wretched old thing, having seen 2AM breakfasts and late night benders and several rounds of beer pong (none of which Arthur had participated in-- he'd only heard the stories from Alfred and his roommates). It was ultimately on its last leg at the rate it was going. Thinking on it, Arthur paused only slightly to wrap his arms around the other man's neck, pulling himself up to whisper between gasps and whines.

"We're... we're going to break this table... we should break it... you should fuck me so hard it cracks right in _half_ \--"

Alfred nearly halted, expression one of furious lust. "Fuck..."

"That's right... You-- can't read a _fucking book_ but you can do that, can't you--" Arthur continued, still managing to sound sly even as his control continued to unravel with every glorious slap of Alfred's hips against his, "fuck me harder-- I want-- I want you to break it...!"

" _Fuck, Arthur!_ "

Alfred came so hard and so quickly, Arthur only had a moment to watch his lovely face change, but then he was terribly close too and starting to forget himself. He tightened around him, not allowing him to pull out as he chased his own orgasm, Alfred's hand closing over his cock but only managing a few strokes before Arthur came with a sharp cry, and they both slumped together, clinging and hot and sticky.

It took them several minutes to recover, only starting to move when Arthur heard the table groan tellingly. It had been fun in the heat of the moment, perhaps, but now it was simply alarming, and he pushed wearily at Alfred's monstrously strong arms around him to get them to move somewhere safer. His boyfriend did move, only slightly, looking rather thoughtful in the afterglow.

"You know what...? It wasn't so bad."

"What, the sex? Don't be so sure of yourself. I didn't hear a single crack in the wood. You failed, just like you're going to fail this semester."

"I _have_  been listening to you. And if we actually broke the table, everyone in the house would have to eat on the floor or something! That'd be awful!" the other whined, then took one look at Arthur's rolling of the eyes and snort-laughed unattractively. It made Arthur want to kiss him again anyway.

"Anyway, that's not what I was talking about," Alfred continued as he finally pulled back and took Arthur with him, finding the chair he'd originally been sitting in and settling into it. He reached up to pull off Arthur's glasses gently, tucking them onto the table as he nuzzled against his cheek.

"Hmm?" Arthur questioned, allowing himself to be handled and moved about until he was propped up in Alfred's lap, still exhausted.

"I actually really like this play. _Midnight Summers Dream_. I feel like... I can really relate to some of the characters."

It was his turn to snort at that, and perhaps on any other day he may have been insulted on behalf of the late and great Shakespeare for the terrible butchering of the title to one of his most beloved works-- today was not that day.

"It's _Midsummer Night's Dream_ , you moron. And indeed, the enchanted ramblings of lovesick idiots. That does sound like you," Arthur breathed, settling against the other with a grumble but a soft kiss to his throat. He supposed he could relate as well. "' _My Oberon, what visions have I seen..._ _Methought I was enamoured of an ass!_ '"

"And you totally are!" Alfred said with a good-natured laugh and a sweet kiss to Arthur's temple in turn, "I love you too, Arthur."

 

 

** Lines taken from Act 3, Scene 2 of  _A Midsummer Night's Dream_


End file.
